The fight was going on fiercely, when a voice at the lower end of the long, broad hall shouted encouragingly: “Go in and win, Pigeon. I’m bettin’ on you. Give him one under the ear. You’ve got him going. One more good punch will lay him out.” Here Black-face Ned—for the speaker was the abductor of pretty Sybil Hayden—spoke with undue confidence. Buffalo Bill, recovering from the blow that approximated a knock-out, now fought with more wariness. He perceived that his antagonist was an experienced pugilist, and he resolved to give evidence that he himself was no novice in the manly art. An opportunity to make his mark came when the outlaw, believing from Buffalo Bill’s wabbling that the scout was about ready to fall, made a furious rush, with the intention of mixing things. In an instant the king of scouts changed his tactics. He side-stepped, ducked, and then struck. The blow caught the outlaw on the point of the chin, and he went down, and stayed there. Coincident with the knock-out blow, Buffalo Bill whirled to confront Black-face Ned. Too late to save himself. A revolver cracked, and the brave scout put his hand to his heart, and then staggered and fell at the feet of the unconscious pugilist. His hands and ankles were being secured when he opened his eyes. “Alive, are you?” said Black-face Ned, in surprise. “I thought my shot a finisher, but I wanted to make sure of you, so I gave you the cords.” “If I am not mistaken,” replied Buffalo Bill quietly, “your bullet struck a steel plate that covers my heart. The shock dazed me. Otherwise, I don’t believe I am hurt at all.” “That’s all right,” returned the outlaw leader composedly. “There’ll be a chance to have some fun with you before giving you a real, Simon-pure send off.” The king of scouts made no reply to this statement. After a moment he asked: “Were you looking for me to appear?” “Sure. When Thunder Cloud told me you were here, I believed you wouldn’t rest until you had found the castle.” Buffalo Bill thought of the story told by Greathead, the Apache. “I was informed a while ago by one of your allies that you had left the castle,” he said. “He must have lied to me.” “No, he didn’t lie. I did quit, but I did not go far. The leaving was a ruse to fool you.” “Fool me? Did you count on my overcoming Greathead?” “No, for Greathead was sent out to round up that long-legged fool they call Alkali Pete. But all the Apaches were told about my going, and I was betting that you’d get the information from one or more of them.” “I didn’t meet any of them,” said Buffalo Bill sadly. “They went toward the cliff dwellings, I suppose.” “You’ve hit it, and I am looking for an early return and a couple of dozen scalps.” “What, you don’t expect them to scale the cliff, do you?” “They won’t have to,” returned Black-face Ned quietly. “The Comanches will come out on the level ground and permit themselves to be shot down.”